Crossing the Bridge
by Rhelle
Summary: (A Yami centric fic, before the Shadow Games, before he locked away the monsters) For all he tried, he was never equal to his task. For all his power and prestige, he was still little more than a child...


_Songfic to ICP's "Crossing the Bridge."_

_Dedicated to Marshall. For just being...Marshall-ish._

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Crossing the Bridge

It was deep night. Yugi was fast asleep, so Yami was left alone, wandering the endless labyrinth of his mind and soul.

He didn't sleep. Spirits don't need to. But sometimes, when the world was dark and still, he faded into a kind of half-reality and he dreamed. Memories, dead to his conscious mind, were the world of his night. For he dreamed always of ancient Egypt and the life he'd had there. Of a time when he was a young god, a Pharoah of limitless power, and the threat of monsters in the night was still very real.

~*~

The midday sun was warm and light on Yami's skin as he stepped outside. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the sky, letting the breeze coming in from the desert caress his skin and ruffle his golden bangs. He needed fresh air. He needed time to think.

There had been too many meetings and councils-of-war held lately. His eyes still closed, the young Pharaoh frowned. Ambassadors from foreign lands had been flocking into Egypt, begging for aid against the creatures of the Shadow Realm - come here via the dimensional hole Yami himself had opened. The monsters were causing horrific carnage. Spreading out of Egypt like a plague, they roamed the land at will, leaving nothing but devastation in their wake. Most of Egypt was in ruins, thousands were dead.

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_I've lived one hell of a life_

_If you're to take it tonight_

_I've lived the life of a king_

_So much to darken my light...._

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Something had to be done, and the people looked to the Pharaoh. But he didn't know what to do any more than they did. For all his power and prestige, he was still little more than a child.

The people were suffering, the world itself hung in the balance, and he knew not what to do. Some Pharaoh he was.

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_Looking 360 degrees_

_Two hundred thousand disease_

_How can I lay back and chill?_

_So many down on their knees...._

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Yami never thought of himself as Pharaoh. It was rare he ever had. The title of Pharaoh didn't denote any truly important qualities, just power. It didn't mean you were worthy of that power, or that you knew what to do any more than other men did.

He turned and lifted his hood, hiding much of his face. He felt the need to be someone else for a time, to be the observer instead of the main player. To be free - if only for a time - from the weight that slumped his shoulders and crushed his spine. The responsibilities of a Pharaoh were making sick his soul.

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_But then again who am I?_

_I'm just some typical guy_

_I ain't no fuckin' hero_

_I've just been wondering why...._

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Under the guise of a simple traveler, he wandered the streets of the city. This world was unfamiliar and fascinating to him; a royal child, he had seldom been allowed to leave the confines of the palace and walk among the commoners, the people of his own city.

Mothers, slavers, craftsmen, shepherds, farmers, servants, marketers, vendors, all passed him by in a manic rush. A diminutive presence at the edge of their vision, he looked briefly into their lives, keenly curious. These were, after all, the people he was sworn to protect. 

He wandered the roads aimlessly, following twists and turns at a whim. It mattered little to him where he came in the end; the journey was more important.

After a long time, the darkened alleyway opened into light, a bright, sheltered courtyard in the dusted ground behind a few dwellings, a place where children played.

A pack of them chased after each other, yelling and shouting happily. Their smiles almost seemed too big for their thin, dirt-stained faces. Fleetingly, Yami felt the desire to throw off the mantle of a Pharoah's responsibilities and just be a child again. But pride - the gods-damned pride of a Pharoah - proved an immoveable obstacle, and so he stayed simply watching them.

They were the children of servants and farm laborers, the poorest of the poor, and they would live and die without any permanent recognition in history. But it was not for him to say whether they were truly important or not; in the minds of their friends and family, they would always be remembered with love. And that was something even the great Pharoah Yami could not be entirely sure of.

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_I've seen some children_

_Crossing the bridge_

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Tattered, dirt-stained rags were all they wore, patched and mended so many times there was hardly any of the orginal fabric left. They were all filthy and underfed, and yet...they seemed so happy. In all his "priveliged" childhood, growing up in the royal palace, Yami had never known such happiness.

A shadow darkened his violet eyes for a moment, a flickering regret for something he had never known and never would. But then it was gone, and he looked on the world with a new light.

He saw his reflection in these children, saw what he himself might have been, had circumstances all been different.

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_What kind of life did_

_They get to live?_

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He wondered, fleetingly, what they would make of themselves. Mages, perhaps? Marketers? Farmers? Warriors? The possibilities were beyond his knowing. They were hope and wonder for the present, these little children, and their individual destinies would unravel with time. He himself would likely never know, but that mattered little. They would come to pass, whether he witnessed them or not.

...Or would they? He began to doubt. The world was a dangerous place these days. What if they died at the claws of the monsters of the Shadow Realm? How many children were already dead, how many destinies had been lost? How many more would if he did not put an end to it? He was Pharoah, after all. The responsibility fell to him.

The weight settled itself onto his shoulders again. The darkness returned. He'd never escape it, would he? The demands of the world and his own traitorous thoughts were tearing him apart.

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_What kind of choice did_

_They get to make?_

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The question, the thrice-damned question, returned. It lurked on the fringe of his perception like a shadow, darkening all his thoughts. It crept in and turned his mind to chaos. One simple question....

_What makes you any better than these children, these people you rule?_

What was it that made him Pharoah?

He needed the answer, he was starved for it. He'd go mad without it. And yet it remained elusive, just out of his reach

But there were greater things at work this day than the threats of monsters and the insecurities of Pharoahs. The tide was changing. The balance was beginning to shift.

Insight came in a sudden flash, illuminating the writhing shadows of his mind like lightning in a storm. And suddenly, he knew.

What made him different from the children was the power he had to protect them. It was a burden, an opportunity, whatever he would make of it. The choice was his, and that was what set him apart.

He thought of the monsters of the Shadow Realm, too, but not in fear or dread; they no longer held any power over him. He was free, free to plan their fall.

He had not the power to destroy them, but he could control them, send them back to the world they came from.

He could. But it would not be easy.

Suddenly, strangely, he felt like laughing. And when had his life been easy?

It was decided then. He had a plan. He only hoped to Ra that it was the right one.

With a swish of robes, he was gone.

The children played on, chasing each other, laughing and screaming. They did not notice the coming and going of the Pharoah, they did not know the change they had wrought in his life. He was only another man to them.

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_What if it was a_

_Child's mistake?_

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~*~

The Sky Dragon stood before him, terrible and magnificent in its power. So this was his opponent; he was to fight a god. Well, so be it. Yami smiled grimly. He did not fear death, and he never had. It was a release from all cares, a freedom. But until then, he had his responsibilities.

Lightning flashed around the two. The air was still, though, and tense, as if the very elements waited on the outcome of this battle with baited breath.

The Dragon threw back its head and roared, a war-song in its own tongue. Shock waves traveled through the earth and tremored the Pharoah's body. Yami's grin only grew. 

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_COME ON IN AND OPEN UP YOUR DOOR_

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Yes, he knew full well all that was riding on this. He knew that better than anyone.

Should he win, he would gain complete control over the Dragon. He would be its master; he would tame it and seal it into stone. For it was the last of the Three, the monster-gods. Tame then, and all the shadow-beasts would be under your command.

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_WHAT IF IT'S A PURGATORY DOOR?_

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But if he lost, he would die, and the essence of his soul would dissipate and be absorbed into the darkness of the Shadow Realm; he would simply cease to exist. And the Dragon would go on its way, unchecked, leaving nothing but devastation in its wake.

_So, Yami, which will it be?_

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_Fuckin' take me instead!_

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The Dragon roared again, and the very rock and stone trembled before its rage. It flew through the air towards him like a snake through water.

Yami threw up his hands and a great shield formed around him. The Dragon stopped its charge and began to circle him, hissing and snarling.

Then Yami spoke, quiet but commanding. He spoke a spell in a language ancient even then, dead to all but the masters of magic. He spoke the language of the gods, the words that had created the universe.

The world around them changed. Things ceased to be as they were in this realm. All was reduced to raw energy.

It was here they would fight, on the plane of the spirit, a place of monsters and mages. It was not a fight in the physical sense, but a battle of wills, of magic versus magic.

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_COME ON IN AND OPEN UP YOUR DOOR_

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Yami burned small and bright, a red star, a flame in the oblivion. But the Sky Dragon was massive, like a wall, a vast expanse of energy. Vast, but not so thick. Perhaps Yami could tear it down, break through. Win.

And so the battle began.

The two lights fought each other, circling, then striking hard and quick, and leaping away. Yami found himself to be the faster, a great advantage.

Emboldened, he charged directly at the Dragon. _Win this now, end it._

He hit the Dragon, struck it with a great force. But it wrapped itself around him, trapping him, suffocating him slowly. He struggled, to no avail. He was trapped. Death was imminent now, and not only for him.

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_WHAT IF IT'S A PURGATORY DOOR?_

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Of all his life, he remembered only the children, laughing and playing as they always had. And he felt no terror now, only a kind of sadness. 

_When would they die? How? _he wondered despite himself. For if he failed, they would, and soon. Only he could save them, only his victory over the Dragon could tame the monsters...

But he could not. The victory would not be his.

He felt his will beginning to fade, his soul coming apart.

The children looked at him again. They should be smiling, but now their faces were full of terror.

_They're too young to die..._

_Only I..._

_I can't though. I can't._

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_Fuckin' take me instead!_

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_NO._

In his rage, he found his strength. He exploded outwards, through the Dragon, like a shooting star in the midnight sky.

The spirit world shifted and faded. The senses of the earth returned to him. He was alone, on his hands and knees, panting and soaked with sweat.

The beast was gone. And yet he could hear it still - separated though they were by the dimensional walls - raging and roaring far off in its own world.

In his exhaustion, he hardly realized what that meant.

He had power over it; _he _was its master now.

He had done it.

It was beyond relief, beyond any label or description, really.

Oh Ra...he had done it.

He threw back his head, and howled to the pewter-gray sky. Not words - not any comprehensible, at least - not pain or fury, but victory and joy. The cry of the hunter, fierce and strong. _He had won._

Then the darkness overtook him, and he knew no more.

~*~

"Yugi. Yugi, wake up."

The boy opened one eye and blinked sleepily at the Pharoah standing over him. Yami smiled. Yugi rolled over and pulled the covers above his head.

Yami smiled slightly. "I trust you slept well, aibou?"

Yugi peeped out from under the blankets. "Yeah, of course. What about you, Yami? What were your dreams like?"

Yami turned and looked out through the window to the rising sun. Light passed through the spirit's form to fall in a pool on the floor. Some nameless emotion - bitterness, sorrow, regret? - flickered briefly in his amethyst eyes. "I can never remember my dreams, little one. You know that."

_~*FINIS*~_

So…wad'ya think? ^_^;

Yami: …I hate you…

:::Huggles him::: I know! ^^

And one more thing - YAMI IS NOT A PEDOPHILE. He's not a priest.

High Priest Seto: :::sweatdrop:::


End file.
